


#selfie #doucheyoverpricedleatherjackets #newshades

by sapphire_child



Series: Season 12 Bits [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Being an Asshole, Dean and Sam go shopping, Dean's fragile masculinity, Episode: s12e07 Rock Never Dies, Gen, Impala, Los Angeles, Missing Scene, Photo Shoots, Sam Winchester is so Done, Selfies, Vince's PA (mentioned)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-07
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-09-07 01:35:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8777944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphire_child/pseuds/sapphire_child
Summary: Because who didn't want to see Dean and Sam purchasing overpriced leather jackets and sunglasses in a douchey LA store? In which Dean doesn't want to go shopping (of course) Sam is bored of his brother being a grumpy old man and they have to do a rapid, impromptu photo shoot to convince Vince's PR lady to meet with them. Well, it's probably not the strangest thing they've had to do as part of a fake backstory for a case?





	

They split off to pursue their separate leads – Crowley to Russell the record exec, Cas to Tommy, and Dean and Sam to try and organise a meeting with Vince’s PA.

Which means that they somehow need to convince her that they’re some hip, indie, rock duo. Which means…

“I hate clothes shopping.” Dean grumbled, shuffling his feet as Sam flicked diligently through a rack of designer duds. “Remind me. Why are we spending our hard-earned money on douchey, overpriced leather jackets?”

Sam eyed him sideways through a curtain of dark hair. “You mean the money you got from hustling pool and credit card scams?”

“Not the point.” Dean kept his arms tightly crossed, and shuffled his feet uncomfortably. This shop was altogether too bright, with artisanal ferns in crappy chrome planters that made him want to kick them over. “Who the hell even _has_ plants inside a damn clothes shop?”

Sam didn’t bother trying to hide his grin when he threw an armload of jackets at Dean. He scrambled to keep them from dropping on the floor and glared up at his brother.

“I thought you’d enjoy this,” Sam said. “You used to wear a leather jacket all the time.”

“Yeah, I used to wear _dads_. Until it got shredded. Also, I was young and kind of an idiot.”

“As opposed to what?”

“Shut up bitch.”

Once they’ve made their selections (Sam deems their jeans and boots as being good enough, mercifully, considering the outrageous prices of the jeans on offer) and they were making their way to the counter to pay, Dean began frowning and plucking at the hem of his flannel.

“Do I really look like a lumberjack?”

“What?”

“Never mind.”

Sam rolled his eyes, and then offered a curt smile to the sales girl as he put everything down on the counter. As she started ringing their items up, Dean got distracted by a display cabinet with overpriced accessories.

“Dude,” Sam protested when he adds a pair of sunglasses to their pile. “Seriously?”

“Hey,” Dean pointed an accusing finger. “If I have to dress up like a douche, I’m going full douche.”

Purchases procured, they head back to the Impala and swap out their usual duds for their new ones. Dean made a pleased face at the butter soft leather jacket, pawing at the quilted section over the shoulder. “This isn’t half bad.” He paused to watch Sam shrug on his own jacket and shook his head. “I can’t believe you bought a white shirt. That’s gonna be hell to get stains out of man.”

Sam merely shrugged. They tended towards greys and darker colours for their undershirts normally – definitely easier to get blood (and other) stains out of. True to form, Dean had purchased a black tee, but Sam had chosen a white one that was practically blinding in the sun. Dean made a show of shading his eyes from the glare and putting on his sunglasses and Sam shook his head.

“You’re an ass.”

Dean tilted his head and grinned. “I look good though?”

Sam shrugged and huffed a sigh. “You look like a douchey guy from LA. You ready or what?”

“To do a fake photo shoot so we can convince some record company drone that we’re some kind of folk-rock-indie-hipster band?” Dean spread his hands helplessly. “Hell, we’ve done weirder things for cases.”

“Sure.” Sam said already sounding tired of his brothers crap as he retrieved his phone and gestured for Dean to stand next to the Impala.

It wasn’t until he was already leaning, faux casual against it, that Dean thought to threaten his brother with bodily harm and possibly even death if he dared show another living soul the resulting pictures.

And if Dean sent Cas a crappy selfie of him in his new jacket and shades to prove to him that no, he didn’t _always_ dress like a damn lumberjack then that was none of his brother’s business.


End file.
